Beneath the Shadow of Sin – Chapter 9: The Mother’s Shadow – by Aarav Anthem

Beneath the Shadow of Sin – Chapter 9: The Mother’s Shadow – by Aarav Anthem

Ethan sat at the kitchen table, the morning light filtering through the curtains, casting long shadows across the scratched wood. The house felt smaller since Sarah’s call, her words—“I’ve always known”—a splinter lodged in his chest. He hadn’t seen her in days, not since she’d taken Liam and Emma to Grandma’s, leaving him alone with Marcus’s dominance and the curse’s tightening grip. The journal, the forest, Bjorn’s warehouse—all of it swirled in his mind, a storm of shame, desire, and now betrayal. Sarah’s complicity was a wound he couldn’t process, a fracture in the one person he’d thought was innocent.

The front door creaked open, and Ethan’s head snapped up. Sarah stepped inside, her hazel eyes tired but sharp, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. She carried a single duffel bag, no sign of Liam or Emma. “They’re staying with Mom,” she said, her voice flat as she set the bag down. “I needed to come back.” Her gaze flicked to Ethan, then past him, searching for Marcus.

He appeared from the hallway, his presence filling the room like a storm cloud. Marcus was shirtless, his jeans low on his hips, the dark hair across his chest catching the light. “Well, look who’s back,” he said, his smirk sharp. “Missed me, Sarah?” He leaned against the counter, his tone mocking, but his eyes were wary, sensing her tension.

Sarah’s jaw tightened, and she stepped closer, her voice low but steady. “I’m done pretending, Marcus. I know what you’re doing to Ethan. What you’ve always done.” Her eyes darted to Ethan, heavy with guilt. “I stayed because of the pact, because of what it gives us—money, protection, power. But I can’t keep lying to him.”

Ethan’s heart pounded, his hands clenching the table’s edge. “You knew?” he said, his voice breaking. “You knew about the curse, about what he’s been doing, and you stayed?” The betrayal cut deeper than Marcus’s touch, sharper than Bjorn’s flogger. Sarah had been his anchor, the one he’d thought was trapped like him, not complicit.

Sarah’s eyes welled, but she didn’t look away. “I was young, Ethan. Like you. Marcus’s father, Richard, he… he brought me in, explained the pact. I thought I could handle it, thought it was worth it.” She swallowed, her voice trembling. “I was wrong, but I was too deep. Like you are now.”

Marcus laughed, a harsh sound that echoed in the kitchen. “Don’t play the victim, Sarah. You loved the perks—new car, big house, all that cash from my side deals.” He stepped closer to her, towering over her slight frame. “You stayed because you’re as fucked up as me.”

Ethan stood, his chair scraping the floor. “Stop it,” he said, his voice shaking with rage. “Both of you. This is sick. You’re both sick.” He glared at Marcus, then Sarah, his chest tight with hurt. “You let this happen to me, Mom. You let him—”

Marcus’s hand shot out, grabbing Ethan’s arm, his grip bruising. “Watch your mouth, kid,” he growled. “You don’t get to judge. You’re in this, same as us.” He yanked Ethan toward him, his green eyes blazing. “You think you’re better? After taking my cock, Jack’s, Bjorn’s? You’re ours, Ethan. Pact’s got you now.”

Sarah flinched, her hand reaching for Ethan, but Marcus shoved her back, gentle but firm. “Stay out of this, Sarah,” he said, his voice low. “He needs to learn his place.” He turned to Ethan, his hand sliding to the back of his neck, squeezing. “You don’t question the pact, kid. You don’t question me.”

Ethan’s breath hitched, his body caught between fear and the familiar heat Marcus’s touch ignited. “Let go,” he said, but his voice was weak, his resolve crumbling under Marcus’s gaze. Sarah watched, her face pale, her eyes a mix of guilt and resignation.

Marcus dragged Ethan to the living room, pushing him to his knees on the rug. “You need a reminder,” he said, unbuckling his belt with a slow, deliberate rasp. Sarah followed, standing in the doorway, her presence a silent witness. Ethan’s heart pounded, his eyes locked on Marcus’s, the curse’s pull drowning out his anger.

“Strip,” Marcus ordered, his voice cold. Ethan’s hands moved, shedding his shirt and jeans, his body bare under Marcus’s scrutiny. Sarah’s breath caught, but she didn’t speak, her silence a heavier betrayal than her words. Marcus’s jeans hit the floor, his cock hard and heavy, and Ethan’s mouth watered despite himself, the pact’s power undeniable.

“Show her,” Marcus said, his hand gripping Ethan’s hair, pulling him forward. “Show her what you are.” Ethan’s lips parted, taking Marcus’s cock, the taste familiar, grounding. Marcus groaned, his hips rocking, and Ethan sucked, his hands gripping Marcus’s thighs, the muscle hard under his fingers. Sarah’s eyes burned into him, but he couldn’t look at her, couldn’t face her judgment.

Marcus’s thrusts were rough, punishing, each one a lesson. “You’re mine, Ethan,” he growled, his voice thick with lust. “Not hers, not anymore.” He pulled out, stroking himself, and turned Ethan around, bending him over the couch. Ethan’s hands gripped the cushions, his body trembling as Marcus spit into his palm, slicking himself.

The first thrust was brutal, the stretch making Ethan cry out, his voice raw. Marcus didn’t slow, his hands bruising Ethan’s hips, each thrust a claim. “Tell her,” Marcus said, his voice a command. “Tell her you want this.”

Ethan’s face burned, his eyes squeezing shut. “I… I want it,” he gasped, the words tearing from him, a mix of truth and shame. Sarah’s soft sob echoed, but she didn’t move, didn’t stop them. Marcus’s pace quickened, his groans filling the room, and Ethan’s body responded, his cock hardening against the couch.

“Fuck, kid,” Marcus said, his thrusts erratic. “You’re perfect.” He slammed in deep, his release hot and overwhelming, filling Ethan as he groaned. Ethan’s own orgasm followed, a shuddering wave that left him spent, his cum soaking the couch. Marcus pulled out, zipping up, and turned to Sarah, his smirk triumphant. “See? He’s ours.”

Sarah’s face was a mask of pain, her eyes wet. “I’m sorry, Ethan,” she whispered, turning away, her footsteps fading down the hall. Ethan collapsed, his body trembling, his mind a storm of betrayal and need. Marcus knelt beside him, his hand gentle for once, brushing Ethan’s hair. “She’ll get over it,” he said, his voice soft. “You will too.”

Ethan didn’t respond, his throat tight, Sarah’s apology echoing with the journal’s words—blood and seed, father to son. He was trapped, not just by Marcus but by his mother’s silence, her complicity. The curse was a chain, and every moment pulled him deeper, his identity slipping away under the weight of his family’s sins.

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